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“Blake’s in her element,” he agrees. A few awkward moments pass before he adds. “So, where’s lover boy?”
“He has a name, Brook.”
“Uh huh, but if I were named Kirk, I’d be glad if someone changed it for me.”
“Be nice.”
“Oh, I am being nice. Where is he?”
“He had to take a phone call outside. He’s very busy…”
“I know, he’s a surgeon. You told me like fifty times already.” He’s such an exaggerator.
I narrow my eyes. “Jealous?”
“Of him?” he sputters. “I don’t think so.” He leans closer, so close I can feel his body heat radiating off him. “Though, I have to admit, him sharing your bed is a little hard to get my head around.”
My eyes grow wide. “You did not just say that.”
“What?”
“Brooklyn.” I lower my voice. “Please don’t start something.”
“I’m not starting anything.” He holds his palms toward me in some attempt at surrender. “But if I don’t think he’s good enough for you, I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut.”
I put my hands on my hips. “It’s not up to you, Brook!” I point a finger in his face. “Just keep your unwanted opinions to yourself and let’s get through this.”
“Uh, oh, speak of the devil.” He looks over my shoulder.
I follow his line of sight and see Kirk coming toward us. My heart sinks.
When I turn back to face Brook, his stance has changed. For one, he’s rigid and has his arms folded over his chest — very un-Brooklyn like. Secondly, he steals his jaw in a way that makes me want to close my eyes and have the ground swallow me whole. I know that look — it’s his protective stance. And while it’s sweet of him to care, it really isn’t his business.
“Sorry, Cupcake,” Kirk says, smiling down at me as he slides an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in close. He dips his head and kisses me on the lips which feels nothing short of awkward in front of Brooklyn. “Duty calls.”
I clear my throat, glancing nervously back at Brooklyn who hasn’t taken his eyes off Kirk, and now they’re locked in some wordless duel that can only be described as testosterone on steroids.
Neither say anything, so after a few seconds of awkward silence, I say, “Kirk, this is Brooklyn, Brooklyn this is Kirk.”
I thought Kirk might be the bigger person and opt to break the ice, but it seems like he’s lost the power of speech.
“I’m sorry,” Brook says, holding out his hand toward him. Relief floods through me at the sight of him remembering his manners, until… “I’ve hardly heard anythin’ about you. I would’ve dusted off the good cutlery and bone china if we’d have known a fancy surgeon was comin’ to our little neck of the woods. I feel underdressed.”
He didn’t. He couldn’t. Kill me now.
Kirk is rendered speechless yet again.
“Oh, I’m the ex-husband by the way, which I’m sure you’ve figured out, and Blake is our child together. Our pride and joy.”
Oh. Lord. Help. Me. Now.
All that’s missing is for Brooklyn to put his arm around my other shoulder, and pull me closer toward him, away from Kirk.
When did this turn into a pissing competition?
Kirk finally meets his grasp. I watch as he grimaces for a second as they shake. My eyes glance down to see Brook’s hand squeezing the shit out of his. Oh, for heaven’s sake…
“Good to meet you. And don’t sweat it with the cutlery and fine china, Eden has done a wonderful job getting the party organized,” Kirk says.
